


Hard to Get

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: Salt (2010), The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Canon-Typical Violence, Character of Color, Consensual Violence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female Anti-Hero, Female Character of Color, Female Characters, Female-Centric, Femslash, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, Porn Battle, Rare Pairing, Sexual Content, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, Salt says, "I'm looking for someone," and reapplies her lipstick.</p><p>Aisha twists her hair up into a loose bun and says, "So am I."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard to Get

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Трудная добыча](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592617) by [Heidel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heidel/pseuds/Heidel)



> Written for Porn Battle XIII (Lucky Thirteen) and [posted on the Dreamwidth entry as well](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/46205.html?thread=7511421&style=mine#cmt7511421).
> 
> Some of Aisha's background/characterization comes from comics canon.

The keyboard slips from beneath Aisha's hand, clattering to the floor when Salt jerks down her pants, shoves her onto the desk, and twists two fingers into her pussy. Aisha arches, the monitor digging into her back with the same sharpness that she digs her fingers into Salt's shoulder for leverage. 

"Aisha," Salt says in greeting, and Aisha answers by canting her hips, meeting each thrust. 

She slips her own fingers under Salt's skirt — only reason for it is deep cover, which means they're probably after the same thing — and pushes her hand between Salt's legs. Even like this, they fight to see who comes first.

Salt shudders first — she always does — and Aisha lets her eyes slip closed as she drives herself down onto Salt's fingers, harder and harder, working her own fingers into Salt's pussy with the same urgent desperation. Salt doesn't make a sound, barely moves her hips, and buries her face in the crook of Aisha's neck. She's panting, her breath blowing hot and damp on Aisha's sweat-slicked skin, so Aisha moans, loudly and shamelessly enough for the both of them.

She says, "Harder," because she likes it filthy and quick like this, and they're both short on time. 

When Aisha comes, it's with her teeth latched around Salt's shoulder, the cotton shirt drying her tongue as she shakes apart. She draws away, breathes, and looks at Salt. Salt has a blush high on her cheeks, hair mussed from their fight, and her eyes are a touch glassy. It makes Aisha smile with victory. 

She's boneless and sated and sprawled on the desk when Salt finally eases her fingers free, dragging them slowly enough to make Aisha shudder and almost come again. She catches Salt's wrist and licks the taste of herself off of each finger when Salt says, "That drive is mine, you know."

Aisha laughs. "Not today."

~*~

The hot water sliding over Aisha's face and down her body feels like an endless patter of rain. She stands beneath it, soaking in the heat, her numb fingers and toes beginning to tingle and then prickle as the circulation returns to them. 

Aisha stays in the shower too long, until the ache in her muscles begins to subside and the blood and dirt stop swirling down the drain. Today was not the first time she's had to dig herself out of the rubble of a building. She'd made it, and she'd made it with the disc that she'd been searching for. She's learned to appreciate small victories, however they come. 

She emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and raises her Beretta and the disc. 

"Looking for this?" she asks. 

"Aisha," Salt says, and turns around with a smile. She looks Aisha over, lingering over the cuts and bruises on Aisha's face and shoulders and avoiding the disc in a way that explains exactly how important it is. "Did you slip into something more comfortable just for me?"

Aisha smirks and tosses her the disc. "I have what I need off of it."

Salt catches it and pockets it in one smooth motion, slipping it away where it won't be found. "Of course."

She stays long enough for Aisha to pull her away from the desk that she was rummaging through and to push her down to the floor. Aisha spreads Salt's legs and sucks Salt's clit until her mouth is slick and Salt shudders around her fingers.

~*~

Aisha bares her teeth, hissing in a breath when Salt digs her thumb into a bruise, purple-dark and fist-sized over Aisha's ribs. The rest of the bruises trail down Aisha's stomach, over her hips and thighs, and before Salt goes searching for those next, she grabs Salt's hand, shoves it between her legs, and rides the gun calluses that are rough on the tips of Salt's fingers. 

Salt says, "Aisha," like she's impatient. 

"It's mine," Aisha says, and crushes her mouth to Salt's in a mockery of a kiss.

She cuts Salt's lips with her teeth, curls Salt's trigger finger, and thrusts it into her pussy, the pleasure immediate and electric, making Aisha gasp. Salt cups her cheek like they're sharing something sweet, and Aisha grabs her ass, pulls her up quick and hard, and uses her lips and teeth and tongue with the same precision that she uses her Beretta or her boot knife. Salt's lips are bitten red and swollen when Aisha's through. 

Later, Salt says, "I'm looking for someone," and reapplies her lipstick.

Aisha twists her hair up into a loose bun and says, "So am I."

~*~

"We can't keep meeting like this," Salt says, smile tight.

Aisha steps over the body bleeding out on the floor and shrugs. "Must be fate." 

Salt answers with a soft laugh. "Neither one of us believes in that."

Aisha motions to the computer that Salt has already hacked. "Ghost drive?" 

Salt nods, smile gone, and strikes Enter on the keyboard. 

Aisha taps the screen and says, "I need this file."

"You're going to have to wait in line."

With a smirk, Aisha steps behind her, slides her hand over Salt's stomach, slips it beneath her jeans. "I hate waiting," she whispers, and fingers Salt's clit.

Salt gasps but rocks against Aisha as the files and videos copy down. 

~*~

The building has gone black, and both women are too keyed and well-trained to take any chances. So when the backup lights glint off of the knife that Aisha is pressing against Salt's throat, Salt's gun jammed into her ribs, Aisha almost laughs. She licks the blood from her teeth and smiles instead, dragging the flat of the blade down to the valley of Salt's breasts.

"You're a wanted woman."

Salt shoves the barrel of her Colt against Aisha's pussy and reminds her, "So are you."

They fuck with the adrenaline still burning in Aisha's veins. It dulls the pain of their fight to a low-level throb that Aisha can't distinguish from the rush of her own blood when she comes. 

As they're divesting the building of its officers and secrets, Salt turns toward Aisha, parting her lips, but shuts her mouth on an exhale, her breath blowing white into the chilly air. 

~*~

Salt is standing in the New York apartment where Aisha keeps Fatima and several women safe from the men who tried to sell them. Salt nods at them, gives them the respect that they deserve, and then meets Aisha's eyes. Aisha lowers her Beretta. 

Fatima insists that Salt must be fed, and when Salt limps forward, Fatima then insists that she must enjoy a warm bath. It's Aisha who sews the stitches while Salt soaks in the tub. 

Before they leave, Fatima clutches Aisha's hands and whispers a prayer for her in Pashto.

Aisha doesn't tell her that it's wasted and squeezes Fatima's hands before she goes.

"I wasn't followed," Salt says.

Aisha strokes the trigger of her Beretta. 

They're standing on the street, Aisha lifting her hand to catch a cab when Salt says, "Max."

Aisha tucks her gun in her pants, hides it with her shirt and nods. When a cab pulls to the curb, she slips her arm around Salt's waist, taking Salt's weight off her injured leg. "I guess that means we have a common enemy."

~*~

Aisha's hands are wet with blood, the drops leaving a stark trail on the floor behind her as she walks to the closet. 

Salt watches her from the doorway and says, "Max," with the same bland tone she'd had years ago. 

She tosses Aisha a disc, which Aisha catches with ease. Aisha stares at its smooth, iridescent surface and wonders how close this will get her to finding the men who murdered her father. 

She lifts her eyes to Salt and motions to the room behind her, the wave of her hand splattering the wall with droplets of blood. Aisha can't toss her gift across the room, but she's sure Salt will understand. 

"One of your comrades."

They share the same shark smile, and the truth is confirmed in the heat of Salt's kiss after she glances at the body sprawled on the bed. Aisha can't linger for more than that and slips through the window.

"Good hunting," Salt says, and Aisha laughs, too soft to be heard, and blows Salt a kiss she might not even see.


End file.
